We crossed the dam bridge! Look at the dam view! Man, that dam water is green!

It was a day of dam puns. At least for a while. Until my brain ran out of them. Probably because it was damn hot.

Absolutely no pun there. Cool down, Willard!

So we took one of our spontaneous side trips to the Hoover Dam. Which was spectacular and marvelous and my huge iPhone 6 Plus is still not big enough to get a view of the whole thing from the visitor’s center observation deck.

I’d have loved to explored more, but as I said, it was just so blasted hot. Earl, my smart little cookie, faked me off in the visitor’s center. I thought she was reading about the dam and the river and, you know, learning stuff. Turns out, she’d found a way to cool off.

Still photos just cannot show how those pants are billowing in the breeze from the vent. Why did it take me so long to notice what she was really up to?

Oh yeah. It was hot.

We spent about an hour at the visitor’s center, the cafe, and the gift shop, then headed to our slightly-more-planned stop at the Lake Mead Recreational Area visitor’s center so Earl could get another Junior Ranger badge. It was quick and easy. And Lake Mead is low and green and beautiful.

But the main event of the day, the one that had Earl asking “Are we there yet?” every three seconds, was Las Vegas. She has never been, and the last time I was in Vegas, I was a mere infant and, from the dramatic stories my mother has told over and over through the years, sick with some spectacular stomach thing the whole time. If I had memories of that trip, it would be long past time to replace them.

I’ve decided I both love and hate this city. It’s just…so much. But for under $100, this was the view from our room at the Mirage, so, really, yeah, I dig it.

To say Earl was itching to get out and explore the city was an understatement. There was no calming the kid, so out we went. We had booked in for a nighttime lights tour which left us only about an hour and a half to wander. Weirdos that we are, we wandered straight across the street to Madame Tussauds. After the train wreck that was Josephine Tussauds, it was high time to introduce Earl to a real wax museum.

The music room was closed, but I was good with that, especially when it meant we both got in for under 30 bucks.

Earl sparred with Muhammed Ali (from a distance).

She putted a (distant) round with Woods and Palmer.

I forgave her for confusing Shaq for Michael Jordan. We don’t really watch NBA, and she’s spent most of her life in Charlotte, after all, where you see MJ on the local sportscast. She loves Shaq now, though, all because of the expression on his face.

Really, Tussauds? you couldn’t do a better job than that on the ‘pit hair? It’s not like you were too worn out from styling his thick and luscious locks.

In the TV personality room, Earl had a (long-distance) interview with Larry King. Always hocking the blog, this one.

And of course, it’s Vegas, so there were a couple of Elvii to pose with (from as far away as possible to still be in the photo).

Duly impressed with the wax, it was time for our night tour of Vegas with OnBoard Tours and our spectacular guide, Renee. And MAN OH MAN the lights! We were both too busy oohing and ahhing to take too many pics, but we snagged a couple.

Earl was most excited about the famous Welcome sign.

I was more impressed by the Walken and More Cowbell Blue Oyster Cult “Don’t Fear the Reaper” playing overhead on Freemont Street.

The tour wrapped up and, with the tour guide’s assurance that we were completely safe on the strip to walk from Bally’s back to the Mirage at 11:00 at night, we set off on the hot 10 minute walk. Earl had just finished telling me, “I could stay here forever. I love Vegas!” when a bottle flew down the sidewalk shattering near a bus 10 feet from us and a couple of guys started throwing punches. Hey, look, Earl! Your first street fight! Welcome to Vegas!

Suddenly, she couldn’t get back to the room fast enough. I really can’t blame her. It was pretty intense for a couple of minutes.

We got back to our room just in time to watch the volcano explode from the window. We’d seen it up close earlier on the tour, getting alternately scorched and soaked by its power and fury, but Earl wanted to see it one last time. After the fight, seeing it from above seemed like the perfect idea.

It worked well. There’s no sleeping with that thing going off every half hour outside your window, anyway.

All in all, Vegas was a win.

And hot.

Did you know when you try to take a panoramic photo of a busy street in Sedona with cars zipping by, the effect is…odd? Everything is disjointed and strange.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine (who is ironically also my chiropractor) recommended we add a stop in Sedona, AZ, to our trip. She raved about Pink Jeep Tours and how wonderful they were, so I tweaked our itinerary and here we are.

I’m pretty sure when my chiropractor friend recommended Pink Jeep, she was thinking one of their nice, relatively gentle photographer’s rides around Coconino National Forest.

I don’t think she intended us to take a bumpy, steep, crazy off-road jeep tour followed by a 90 minute horseback ride.

Or maybe that’s exactly what she intended. Maybe she’s drumming up business! I kid. It was an excellent rec! Just book me in for the moment I pull back into town, ‘kay?

That being said….

Ow.

That last pic up there? That was a totally tame hill. Most of the time, I couldn’t let go of the grab bars long enough to snap a shot, and when I could, this immediately happened:

She was like glue, but she had such a good time. We laughed and squealed and talked up our fantastic tour guide, Mark. The Diamondback Gulch trail is insane, but it’s made tolerable when you have a driver who knows the trail backwards and forwards. He knew when to pump the speed, when to let us bump, and when to ease the Jeep up or down obstacles.

Dry river beds are the best. I grinned like an idiot through most of the ride. I think Earl was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Truly, it was a blast.

We stopped at one of the peaks of the trail to snap a few photos before hopping back on paved roads (boo!) and heading toward the vineyard for our horseback riding excursion.

So if I didn’t already feel beat up enough after the Jeep tour, we saddled up and headed out around one of Sedona’s vineyards.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, my horse groaned from the first moment. She also gave me wicked side-eye through the entire ride.

I felt for her, and told her often.

The first half of the ride was this nice, relaxing trail ride, even if I was already saddle sore after 5 minutes. Midway, though, we heard gunshots. The horses weren’t spooked, but it became obvious that our trail guide was…not concerned so much as curious. Apparently they don’t hear many gunshots out there, especially in the amounts we were hearing.

Turned out some guy on an ATV had slipped through one of the vineyard gates and set up targets against a cliff. At least we weren’t the targets. Gunfire adds a certain level of excitement to anything, though.

When we got back into town, Earl and I headed to a restaurant recommended by the horseback trail guide, Cafe Jose. Incredible authentic Mexican food with shredded beef, and the sopapillas were yum.

By then, we were nearing sunset. Mark had mentioned the Sedona Vortexes to me during a lull in the Jeep tour. It only made sense, then, to kill two birds with one stone. To Airport Mesa, we went! Aching everything be damned!

We reached the summit and gasped. Not just out of exhaustion, but on one side, there was an electrical storm raging. On the other, sunset was in full splendor with the lights of Sedona surrounding us all around.

Our car is that speck furthest away just under the sun’s colors. Mark didn’t tell me we had to hike up the mesa.

We perched on the rocks for a long time, meditating, praying, watching the lightning, taking in 360 of masterpiece. After a few minutes, I heard a scratching sound, rock against rock, and looked down.

“I’m drawing what I see. See? I can rub some of the dirt on it and it goes away. Is that okay?”

It was more than okay.

I’m continually floored by the little moments on this trip. Earl’s simple drawing on top of a mesa was one of those. It was a child’s capstone on a great day.

I didn’t make her erase it before we left. The weather and feet of other visitors will take care of that. Instead, I snapped a couple of photos, took her hand, and started back down the steep, uneven path. When we got back in the car, she grinned: “I left history up there, didn’t I?”

I don’t know kid, but you’re certainly making your mark.

 

 

 

Yesterday was a tremendously long day. I thought today would be equally long for a spot, but then it shortened right up.

I’m still so tired, though. Tomorrow is the first time on the trip we can actually sleep in. Thank you, LazyMe, who opted for a 2:00 tour tomorrow rather than the 8 a.m. The respite from dragging Earl out of bed (although she giggles every morning when I wake her up, which makes me insanely happy) is much much much needed. The closest we have come to fussing at each other is in the mornings, mostly because I’m all go-go-go and she’s on her own time in her own head. The morning time is when she tries the hardest to make me laugh, which, when I’m trying to wrangle, is when I’m least patient. I’m working on it, though.

Today was an uncharacteristically early start – down for breakfast at 8, then picked up by our tourbus at 8:45. Well, tour van. We were the last two of nine tourists to be picked up, so we ended up at the very back. It was great for spreading out all of our stuff, which managed to grow like some non-sentient Audrey II through the course of the day. It wasn’t so great for the view, but I wasn’t bothered. a) I was just glad I wasn’t driving for a change, b) we stopped anytime there was really something to see, and c) naps.

The tour was great, and our guide, Molly, was fantastic. So much information starting from the time we got in the van—the volcanic San Francisco Peaks, the aspens and juniper trees, other flora and fauna, cliffs and mesas and buttes oh my! The drive up to the canyon from Flagstaff was made so much shorter by all the great tidbits she kept throwing at us.

We made five stops (I think?) at the Grand Canyon, including one at Verkamp’s Visitor Center she threw in just so Earl could pick up a Junior Ranger book. Hooray for awesome tour guides!!

I’m not going to bore you with details. Here’s what you really want:

 

The mind-boggling thing is that the pictures don’t come close to doing it justice.

Look! It’s a picture of us (and the scope Molly pulled out at every stop to show us amazingly small things unfathomable miles away) at Moran Point.

 

There are a lot of reasons I love All-Star Grand Canyon Tours. The vans are comfy, the tour guides are great, yada yada yada. The real winner is lunch, though, catered by Brandy’s in Flagstaff. What I thought would be simple ham and cheese sandwiches was anything but. I wish I’d taken a picture of the spread—fruit, sandwich garnishes, cloth tablecloths, real plates, actual silverware—but we were too hungry and there were flies and ravens to fend off.

Did you know ravens have a similar intelligence to a 6-year-old child? I was skeptical, but after seeing how this guy started stalking closer and closer as we wrapped up eating, then actually called his buddies as we were cleaning up, I totally believe it.

 

Our last stop at the Grand Canyon was at the Desert View Watchtower, where Earl picked up a mountain lion for a good cause, and we plotted a way to come back in the evening for a nighttime Ranger Program, since Earl needed to attend one for her Junior Ranger badge. Then it was back into the van to head out the east entrance, past the Little Colorado River Gorge, and into the Navajo nation.

We picked up a couple of small souvenirs at a local Navajo shop, then zoned out all the way back to Flagstaff. On the way, Earl decided maybe the Junior Ranger program wasn’t worth the trek back up to the Canyon. Instead, she wanted to go swim at the hotel.

Molly dropped the rest of the tour off first, so we were the last ones off. I talked her into a picture because she was just that awesome. I think the grin is because everyone followed her number one rule today: “Don’t fall in!”

At the hotel, we couldn’t find Earl’s swimsuit, which meant we were forced into a Wal-Mart run. New suit procured, we got back to the hotel, down to the pool, back up to the room for goggled, then back down to the pool in exactly enough time for storms to roll in. We got back to the room again just as the lightning storm kicked into high gear. Earl watched through the window from my bed, commenting on the devil beating his wife and, “I have to see how this ends.”

With that, we had an easy evening, lounging around in our jammies and watching American Ninja Warrior.

It was much nicer than driving another three hours to the Grand Canyon and back, although I still feel bad Earl didn’t get her badge. We’ll make up for it, though. I’m sure of that.